


Red Boots

by infinite_regress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Grandchildren, Happy Ending, Still kissing Clara, Whouffaldi Week 2016, whouffadli-baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_regress/pseuds/infinite_regress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor may not be chasing across the universe any more, but he still flies, especially when the little girl with red boots comes to visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Boots

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: I regret nothing, baby food, bird.

 

 

Clara wandered down the garden path, past the small pond covered with a sturdy protective net- not to protect the pond from the heron that would swoop in early mornings and steal away the carp, but to protect owner of the red wellington boots who would run, hair in a dark tangle behind her, arms outstretched, swooping and soaring, calling ‘Look at me, grandfather, I’m flying!’ around the garden of the cottage.

She stopped in front of the old blue box, a shovel propped against one side, and watched him balanced on a step ladder, nailing a bird box to the other.

‘Someone is going to have a cosy home this summer,’ she said, and he climbed down with a satisfied nod, admired his handiwork.

‘Time was, the screaming hordes of Genghis Khan couldn’t have put a dent in that old box,’ he said.

‘I know,’ Clara said a little sadly, and patted the flaking paint. ‘She’s been still such a long time now.’

‘Only safe thing to do, Clara, after all that running, and trying to hide for so long, there was no other way.’

She nodded. There had been no other way, no other way for the three of them to stay safe, stay together, so once they finally found a safe haven, the old box had to fall silent. He had turned the key for the last time, and put it in a small pot on the dressing table in their room, right in front of the three mirrors, and it sat there to this day.

'Leo just called,' she said, 'He and Jemma are dropping the kids off. They’ve got a work thing.’

‘On his birthday?’

‘Yeah, something clever and brave they need them to do. You know, save the world, usual kind of thing. Bad guys don’t stop for birthdays here or anywhere else.’ She pulled a few weeds from the flower bed, and then said, ‘Do you remember the day he was born?’

‘How could I forget? Slithery little scrap of a boy sliding into my hands on the floor of the TARDIS, with the console on fire and the Time Lords on our tail. I could hardly hear the cloister bell over the sound of you screaming.’

She batted him good-naturedly on the arm with the weeds in her hand. ‘Hey, no pain relief!’

He put an arm around her waist and pulled her close. ‘You were magnificent. And you still are,’ he said and kissed her.

After all these years his kiss still thrilled her, and she sighed happily.

 

There were voices along the garden path. ‘Sammy, watch your grandfather’s daffs!’ came a smooth Scottish lilt.

‘Look out for the pond!’ a higher English voice.

‘Jemma, don’t worry, the ponds covered up…’

‘Grandfather!’ a pair of red boots flew along the path towards them.

‘There’s my little bird! And she flies!’ they twirled across the whole garden, round and round on that spring morning, red boots and brown hair streaming with grey curls, and smiles as bright as the sun.

Jemma said, ‘I’m sorry Clara, it really is unavoidable,’ as she handed the baby over.

‘Jemma, never be sorry for bringing my little angels here.’ Clara said, bouncing the gurgling baby onto her hip.

‘I’ve got the bag,’ said Leo, ‘nappies, wipes, baby food, kitchen sink…’ he put the bag on the bench. ‘We’ve got to run, but Dad,’ he called backing out of the garden, ‘when we get back I need to talk to you about boosting the range on the tachyon pulse generator.’ But his father didn’t hear, because he was flying around the garden with a pair of red wellingtons banging on his chest, and a small girl perched on his shoulders.

‘Hey it’s your turn with the baby food, remember’ Clara called.

‘Really?’ he swooped Sammy over his shoulder, and as she touched-down he tweaked her nose. ‘You know, your grandmother’s the boss. So we will have to continue this flight later.’

He took the baby and the bag, ‘And what have you got to report, Night-Hawk?’ he asked the boy.

Sammy laughed a huge exaggerated laugh, as if she had told him many times, and said, ‘Grandfather! His name is name is Tommy, not _Night-Hawk!’_

He laughed and disappeared into the kitchen, calling ‘That’s what you think!’ over his shoulder.

Sammy tugged Clara’s hand and pulled her to the bench in the snug at the back of the cottage, and patted the seat. She looked very seriously up at her grandmother, and said, eyes wide, ‘Now grandmother, tell me the story of the impossible man.’

Clara smiled. ‘Really, that old story again?’

‘Yes yes yes!’ the little girl said, and settled down to listen with her hands neatly on her lap.

‘Well, a very long time ago…’

 

***

He sat on the bench, with his long legs out-stretched, head back, eyes closed in the late afternoon sun. Clara popped two glasses of wine on the table and sat next to him. ‘Do you ever regret it? Leaving the TARDIS, your old life, everything?’ she asked.

He opened his eyes and turned towards her, putting a stray hair away behind her ear and said, ‘I regret nothing.’

She smiled, leaned across and kissed him. ‘Hmmm…you’ve got baby food on your t-shirt,’ she snuggled close to him, ‘and those climbing roses need cutting back.’

‘Next on my list,’ he said and wrapped a long arm around her, ‘first thing in the morning.’ He sighed contentedly. ‘And I have nothing, not a single thing to regret.’

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have created a collection called 'Whouffaldi Week 2016' where works for these lovely prompts can be collated. If you're an author, please consider linking your work there. You can do this through the edit screen, by searching for Whouffaldi Week 2016 in the 'collections' box. Happy shipping!


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